


At 24 Years Old

by isuilde



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff, figuring out things, makoto doesn't even appear that much tbh, this was not what i had in mind when i began but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re twenty-four,” Rin points out. “The time for falling in love like teenagers is long over, don’t you think?”</p><p>Like teenagers, with caught breaths and heartbeats with a single glance of someone. Like teenagers, where the line of having a crush and loving someone blurs too easily, all confusing and frustrating, and surprisingly as fleeting as the spring, leaving fond memories to trace as he gets older. Like teenagers, who understands so little of what they want and what they wish, who grapples for nothing and everything at the same time.</p><p>They’re twenty-four. Rin doesn’t hope for those novelty feelings anymore.</p><p>(or, in which Rin figures things out in the first year of going out with Makoto.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	At 24 Years Old

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the back of my mind for some time, but once I began, everything kind of spirals out of control and nothing about this turns out like what I had in mind originally.
> 
> Thanks as usual for being the best ideas-bouncing partner, [teletou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teletou).

This is not a secret: Matsuoka Rin is a romantic.

Everyone who knows him beyond the initial layers of fierce determination and rough attitude knows this fact—knows that Rin is the kid who wishes to swim in a sakura pool and likes to make rainbows, knows that Rin cries over silly chick-flicks and sometimes young adult novels, knows that Rin keeps little knick-knacks that are fragments of memories. It’s not exactly a secret, though it’s not something Rin openly admits either; he’d fight anyone who teases and calls him a romantic, even as he flushes beet red at that.

His mother tells him once that he’s the kind of person who is easy to read because he feels everything with his whole being. He throws all of himself into whatever he does and whatever he feels, because he’s a person who enjoys present and takes as much as he can in whatever situation he finds himself in. There’s a lot of good and a lot of bad in that, but it’s also what makes him into Matsuoka Rin, and truthfully, it isn’t something he minds at all.

So, Matsuoka Rin is a romantic. That is not a secret.

What Rin thinks maybe is a secret is the fact that he doesn’t actually understand what love is, and that is kind of weird, considering he is a romantic—right?

** \------o0o----- **

On Christmas Eve when they’re all gathered back in Iwatobi at Haruka’s house to have a barbecue party, Makoto, with an adorable shade of red spreading across his cheeks to his ears and the back of his neck, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his loose white shirt, approaches Rin and says, “Rin, I like you.”

Rin blinks. And blinks some more. And then feels heat crawling up his face, because Sousuke is standing behind him and staring, and he could see Nagisa making exaggerated encouraging gestures at Makoto’s back from the other side of Haruka’s living room.

“Uh,” he says eloquently, as his brain catches up,  _oh Makoto likes me, oh Makoto is confessing to me, this is not something I have ever thought before_ . “That’s—“

Makoto, if possible, flushes even harder. “I’d—I’d like it if you’d—go out. With me.” His voice trails off into a very quiet whisper, in the end, and for some reason it only serves to make Rin even more embarrassed. He shoves both of his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward but sort of flattered as well, and tries not to grin like a loon. This is Makoto, after all—attractive, gentle giant Makoto who gives the best smiles and hugs, who is one of the bravest person Rin knows, has cat-girlfriends and shares Rin’s wonderful taste of music.

Of course Rin would be flattered.

So he gives up on trying not to grin like a loon and says, “Yeah—that. That sounds great. Uhh—“ and there’s a muffled catcall from the other side of the room, no doubt coming from Nagisa. Rin runs a hand through his own red strands, averting his eyes awkwardly when Makoto’s head snap up in pure surprise, and pretends that he doesn’t hear Sousuke’s own wondering grunt. “Can we—maybe discuss this? Somewhere more private…?”

Makoto’s smile, Rin thinks for one dazed second, is blinding.

** \------o0o----- **

They’re twenty four years old.

And Rin thinks it’s exactly why he says yes. He says as much, when they reach the stairs that lead to the bend towards the Tachibana house, where it is quiet and the blanket of night is stronger than the street light. Makoto’s face morphs into one of confusion at that, eyes turning guarded, smile fading a little.

“It’s going to be difficult,” Rin says. “With me. You know that, Makoto—you know how stubborn I am. There’s also the fact that I’ll be going back to Australia, and well, I’ve never done long-distance relationship before.”

Makoto studies him closely, before a small smile breaks over his lips, this time almost self-deprecating. “You don’t have to let me down gently, Rin. I really didn’t expect you to say yes, I just—mostly wanted you to know, that’s—“

“That’s why I’d like to try,” Rin cuts him off. He shoves both his hands into his pockets, keeps them there as he steps down the last two stairs and stares at Makoto evenly. “Because it’s with you.”

The silence that falls between them is unbearable for a second, even as Makoto nods very slowly. Rin inhales, takes it as a cue for him to finish: “Because if it’s with you, I don’t mind trying. A relationship, I mean.”

Makoto’s smile turns half-amused. “You don’t mind?”

“We’re twenty-four,” Rin points out. “The time for falling in love like teenagers is long over, don’t you think?”

Like teenagers, with caught breaths and heartbeats with a single glance of someone. Like teenagers, where the line of having a crush and loving someone blurs too easily, all confusing and frustrating, and surprisingly as fleeting as the spring, leaving fond memories to trace as he gets older. Like teenagers, who understands so little of what they want and what they wish, who grapples for nothing and everything at the same time.

They’re twenty-four. Rin doesn’t hope for those novelty feelings anymore.

Makoto averts his eyes. “If you don’t—if you don’t feel anything for me, Rin, you shouldn’t—“

“This isn’t pity, Makoto,” Rin says, and he’s being selfish, he knows he is, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’m saying I’d like to try, because you’re someone I wouldn’t mind having as a boyfriend. I’m just telling you what I want, and if you’re okay with that, then let’s try.”

Because they’re twenty-four years old, matured adults who know their places and understand what they have, what they want, what they wish.

Makoto’s green eyes are dark when they find Rin’s, but there’s certainty in his gaze and courage in his smile, and Rin is reminded of how brave Makoto has always been.

“Alright.”

** \-----o0o------- **

Later, with Gou asleep and draped over his back as they walk back home, Sousuke gives Rin a criticizing look and says, “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

Rin thinks Sousuke doesn’t understand. “What, you don’t trust me making decisions for myself?”

Sousuke shifts to adjust Gou’s weight on his back, movements gentle and careful, even as Gou mumbles against his shoulder. “I just don’t want to watch you spiral down the drain if this wrecks your friendship with Makoto.”

“It won’t,” Rin tells him, each syllable a confident lilt, because he’s not playing around and neither does Makoto, and it’s why even if this relationship doesn’t work, they won’t stop being friends. And in a way, it’s reassuring, that he’d still have a piece of Makoto even if this—whatever it is between them—crumbles down completely. “We know what we agreed to.”

Sousuke glances at him, unconvinced. “You’re not even in love with him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You crushed on Haru when we were little, and you couldn’t shut up about him. I don’t hear you talking my ears off about Makoto.”

That is just unfair. Rin feels heat climbing the back of his neck, up his cheeks to the tips of his ears, fast—the way embarrassment is inevitable when your mother shows off you baby pictures to your friends. “Everyone had a crush on Haru when we were little,” he grouches. “ _You_ had a crush on Haru when we were little—hell, you’re still crushing on him right now—“

“I am not,” Sousuke cuts in rather indignantly, and Rin throws him a smirk. “Shut up. And don’t change the subject, this is serious. Makoto is really into you, you know that, right?”

Rin pauses, recalls the way Makoto’s cheeks redden, the way Makoto fidgets and wrings his fingers, the way Makoto’s expression softens and brightens when Rin catches his eyes. It sends something warm through him, somehow, the knowledge that someone like Makoto could like him enough to ask Rin out, the knowledge that Rin makes him happy just by being there talking to him. “I—yeah. I know that.” He squares his shoulders, this time looking up to meet Sousuke’s eyes steadily. “And I’m not playing around.”

Sousuke stares at him for a long time, before stepping closer to bump their shoulders together, gentle enough not to jolt Gou awake.

“Good luck then.”

** \------o0o----- **

They are twenty-four, and by now Rin is some sort of sports celebrity in Japan, with no less than five commercials in his contracts and a lot of interview appointments. Sydney and Tokyo becomes something a lot like a very long commute, at this point, and sometimes Haruka tags along for training in Sydney, much to Rin’s coach excitement. Sousuke stays in Okinawa most of the time, getting more and more tanned whenever they decide to meet up in Tokyo and hang out together.

Makoto works as a swimming coach both at a kids swimming club in Ueno and at the kindergarten where Nagisa teaches, guiding kids to find love in swimming and sharing stories about his friends who are now Olympians. The two of them always have lunch with Rei, who’s decided to continue on his master degree at Tokyo Daigaku, and sometimes Gou if she isn’t too busy with her research. It’s a nice point in their lives when the future doesn’t seem to be too imposing anymore, when they’ve finished laying out the foundations and groundwork for their dreams and are now stacking bricks that will shape up their dreams, and Rin thinks it’s just the perfect time to try things out with Makoto.

Not that anything changes much. Rin spends long enough intervals in Sydney for their relationship to be called long-distance relationship, which might not be the best to try things out, because really, nothing much changes. He still Skype-calls Makoto, they still text and send each other cat pictures and weekly music recommendations. He still listens to Makoto complaining about work and people trying to set him up with other parents, still laughs at Makoto’s poor attempts in cooking, and Makoto still listens to him grouch about trainings and fellow athletes and jetlags.

Except now Makoto sometimes adds silly little hearts at the end of his texts, sends Rin good morning and good night messages, and gives Rin this soft, happy looks every time they Skype. Except now whenever Rin is in Tokyo and they meet up, Makoto walks slightly closer to him, brushes their arms together, lets Rin steal his drinks and presses their shoulders close as they sit in the train after a movie date.

It’s a very slow-going, these changes, and when sometimes Rin stops to think about it, it brings a small smile to his lips.

** \-----o0o----- **

It’s about his sixth month after going out with Makoto, and he happens to be in Tokyo for another commercial contract, and Nagisa happens to be the only one free to go out for lunch with him, when the question comes.

“Hey, Rin-chan, how far have you gone with Mako-chan?”

Rin chokes, barely manages to gulp the last of his coke without killing himself. “What kind of question is that,” he coughs out, glaring at the tuft of blond hair beaming up innocently at him. “That’s not—Nagisa, what the fuck.”

Nagisa shrugs. “I’m just curious. Mako-chan wouldn’t tell me anything, I thought I’d ask you.”

Rin gives him a ridiculous look. “Because that’s not a question you’d go around asking people!”

“Why not, it’s a legit question, you’ve been going out for six months, it’s normal for you two to at least have kissed!”

“I will kill you,” Rin threatens, weakly, trying to fight the heat climbing up his face. Nagisa, of course, disregards it completely in favor of digging into his own sickeningly sweet berry parfait, even as he singsongs under his breath about Makoto and Rin being one of the cutest couple he’d ever seen, and _really, Rin-chan, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it, everyone knows Rin-chan would be a great boyfriend anyway, since Rin-chan is the most romantic person ever, and this is just curioity about how you maintain their relationship when you don’t meet that often, is it the phone sex?_

Rin just stares at Nagisa, wide-eyed. “What.”

“You know,” Nagisa muses, the small spoon dangling from between his teeth. “I never thought of Mako-chan as someone who’s good in dirty-talking, but I guess—“

Rin resists the urge to stuff Nagisa’s mouth with the bagel on the table. “No.”

Nagisa blinks. “No? You don’t do phone sex? Is Mako-chan bad at it? You mean you guys only do it when you’re back in Tokyo?” His eyes widen in awe. “Is it enough? If it’s enough for you then Mako-chan must be super good in bed—“

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Rin tells him, leaning back to feign ignorance as he knocks back the rest of his drink, and Nagisa gives him a shit-eating grin.

** \-----o0o----- **

He doesn’t think about it. He really doesn’t. Before. Because he doesn’t see Makoto often, not counting the Skype calls, and when they see each other it’s mostly conversations and laughter and hugs and hand-holdings, not—

Not kisses. Never kisses, not yet. Or more than that. Not because Rin hasn’t thought about it, more because he sometimes forgets about it when Makoto is around—a comfortable presence that grounds him with the simplest conversation.

But Nagisa puts the idea in his head—six months, he’d reminded Rin, and it’s normal for couples to have kissed and do other things at this point, even if they’re in long-distance relationship, and—

“Rin?” three raps on the top of his head, and Rin blinks at the TV, at the ending credits rolling up the screen—since when did the movie end? “Rin, are you listening?”

Rin registers the warm bulk of Makoto’s body around him—his chest to Rin’s back, his arms around Rin’s waist, his chin on Rin’s shoulder, his breath a soft puff against Rin’s cheek. He follows the line of Makoto’s bangs, down to the soft, sleepy green eyes that are gazing up at him curiously. There’s a sudden rush of fondness that makes Rin smile, and he raises one hand to pat Makoto’s unruly mop of brown hair. “Sorry, come again?”

“I asked if you still want to watch the Return of the King,” Makoto says, and Rin watches as he fights a yawn in vain. He glances at the alarm clock on Makoto’s bedside table—past midnight, no wonder Makoto looks tired. It had been the swimming club’s open registration day, after all.

He does want to finish the marathon, but he doesn’t want to make Makoto stay up for it either. So he taps the top of Makoto’s head instead. “Go to sleep, you still have work tomorrow. I’ll be quiet when I watch it, swear to god.”

“Mmm,” Makoto sounds different, this way—lazier, more contented, like he can’t be bothered to even move. “Okay.”

Rin laughs. “I’m serious, idiot, go to bed.”

“Alright,” Makoto yawns again, movements languid as he disentangles himself from Rin. There’s that split second when Makoto pauses, angles his head just  _so_ , and Rin freezes, holds his breath because oh, is Makoto going to kiss him, what is he supposed to do, should he kiss back, it’s what boyfriends do after all, as Nagisa says—

But the moment passes, and Makoto simply pats his cheek lightly and says, “Good night, Rin,” before lugging himself up to his bed and promptly passes out.

Rin stares blankly at the floor for a long moment, listening to Makoto’s even breathing, and thinks,  _does he ever want to kiss me at all?_

** \-----o0o----- **

He wakes up on Makoto’s couch the next morning as the early morning light filters through the curtains, thoughts filled with his plans for the day: contacting his coach, trainings with Haruka and Seijuurou, checking in with Gou, dropping by Shinjuku for clothes, booking his plane ticket back to Sydney.

But first, coffee. And then going back to his own apartment—rarely lived in but still convenient for whenever he decides to swing by Tokyo anyway—to change clothes, and maybe he’d have time for a morning run. Or he could just take the long way back to his apartment and jog all the way there instead of taking the trains, greeting the still sleepy Tokyo whose residents are mostly still slumbering.

He leaves a message for Makoto on a post-it and sticks it on the fridge, scribbling a hasty heart shape behind his name without thinking.

** \-----o0o----- **

Being with Makoto is comfortable. It’s easy, and Rin has always enjoyed it, even before they are officially in a relationship. There’s a sense of taking a rest, of being grounded for a while, before he has to continue paving his way to his Olympic dreams. It’s a different sort of being comfortable with Sousuke, or Haruka, or Nagisa, Rei, and even Gou, or with Ai or Momotarou.

With Makoto, it feels like standing with an equal, a dynamic he could keep up with even without much of an effort, without the feeling of wanting to challenge or rising up to the challenge, without the feeling of wanting to lead or become someone to look up to. It’s nice, it’s easy, and Rin thinks maybe it’s what complicates everything about this relationship, sometimes.

It’s nice. It’s comfortable. And Rin isn’t sure if he’s falling in love, or if he’s just getting too comfortable with having a boyfriend.

“You’re thinking too much,” Haruka tells him after the training session, droplets of water still clinging to the tips of his hair as he shakes them off. “If you’re happy, that’s that.”

Rin pauses, considers Haruka, considers Haruka’s position in both his and Makoto’s life, and decides to risk it. “Is he, though?”

Haruka glances at him, doesn’t even blink at the question. “Yeah.”

Rin isn’t sure how much of that quick answer is only to reassure him, and how much is the truth. “I think he could do much better,” he says, tries to make the words light as he towels his hair dry absently, but couldn’t quite hide the hesitance underlining his voice. “Someone who’s less stubborn and selfish, who thinks about him more. He deserves that.”

Haruka turns, blue eyes settling on Rin closely. There’s no accusation in his gaze, no judgment, no curiosity, simply the stare Haruka levels him when he tries to figure out what in Rin’s head, when he tries to understand. “Do you not want to be with Makoto anymore?”

“What—no!” Rin backpedals, but then something makes him stop, makes him pause to consider—something about Makoto’s soft gazes, Makoto’s fleeting touches, Makoto’s smiles. Something about Makoto, who tells Rin he loves Rin at the end of each Skype call, who pats Rin’s cheek instead of kissing him good night, who picks Rin up from the airport with eyes as bright as his smile.

If he doesn’t love Makoto back, does he deserve all of those, directed at him?

He looks back at Haruka, who waits, because that’s how Haruka works when it comes to things like these—feelings and understanding people, for once devoid of challenges. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and says, “I just—“

A drop of water falls from the tips of his finger, hitting the tiles silently.

“I’m just not sure he’d be satisfied with what I can give him,” he murmurs, at last. “And I don’t know if I could give him more.”

Haruka nods. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah,” because this, Rin doesn’t have any doubt. He doesn’t know if he could love Makoto that way, could love Makoto as much as Makoto loves him, not when Rin doesn’t understand himself what it means to love someone anyway, but he does know that he wants Makoto to be happy. Above everything, they’re friends, and Rin genuinely wants his friends to be happy. “Makoto deserves to be happy, you know that, Haru.”

The corners of Haruka’s lips twitch upwards. “He does,” he agrees, and claps Rin’s shoulder before he walks away. “But being with someone else doesn’t guarantee him to be happy, either.”

** \-----o0o----- **

On the day he goes back to Sydney, everyone has time to see him off. Even Sousuke, who happens to be dropping by Tokyo after visiting his family over in Tottori. Rin thinks dropping by Tokyo to see him off is an excuse for Sousuke to see Haruka, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gives Sousuke a shit-eating grin whenever Sousuke stands close or bicker with Haruka, which usually earns him a chuckle and a gentle elbow to the ribs from Makoto.

“Don’t tease them too much,” Makoto says, eyes dancing. “They’re figuring things out.”

So Rin doesn’t—aside from all the shit-eating grins, of course—and makes a mental note to save all the teasings for when Sousuke and Haruka are done getting it together. It does makes him wonder though, if Sousuke has gone past the having a crush stage and is now in love with Haruka, if Haruka is in love with Sousuke at all. If Sousuke feels the tell-tale of breath catching and heart skipping—all the things that Rin thinks he wouldn’t get to feel anymore because he’s going to be twenty five years old next year, and he still doesn’t understand what it means to be in love.

He looks at Makoto, who is laughing at some joke Nagisa is saying now, and wonders if he should take him aside, should spare a moment just for the two of them. Maybe a farewell kiss, brief and simple, but special—a way that would set Makoto aside from how Rin says goodbye to his other friends. Because Makoto is his boyfriend, after all, and he’s entitled to something special from Rin, and well—

He makes a face at the thought, because it’s so goddamn embarrassing, and if he does that, he probably wouldn’t hear the end of it from Nagisa. Or worse, Sousuke or Haruka. Really, sometimes Rin finds that the only one sane enough in this group is Rei, and knowing what a dork he is, it’s saying a lot about his inner circle of friends.

The announcement of his flight reverberates over his head, and Rin deals with Nagisa and Momotarou’s overbearing farewell first: head nuzzles and earnest tight hugs and exaggerated tears, which thankfully ends when Rei and Ai step forward to give him a hug. Gou kisses him on the cheek, Sousuke offers his fist for him to bump, and Haruka nods with an “I’ll see you in a week.” It’s almost normal now, these temporary goodbyes; where they once bring tears to Rin’s eyes, he now accepts them as normalcy.

He doesn’t hug Makoto. Makoto doesn’t do anything, either, just clasps his hands and squeezes, his smile staying bright, eyes staying soft. “Good luck,” is what he says, what he’s always said, and Rin answers with his usual Matsuoka-patented confident grin, one that makes Makoto’s smile brighten even more.

Rin stares at that smile, hesitates and thinks,  _maybe I should—_

“Go, go, go,” Makoto ushers him, and Rin’s head snaps up as the last call for the boarding echoes. He squeezes Makoto’s hands back and lets go, snatching his backpack from the floor and makes a run towards the boarding gate, with the thrum of everyone’s shouts trailing behind his steps.

** \-----o0o----- **

He doesn’t think anything more about it until he startles awake from his nap in the plane.

Maybe it’s the soft hum of the machine, and the dim light of the plane. Maybe it’s the pitch black darkness he could see from the window, and the occasional lighter shades of grey haze that indicates clouds under the stretch of the wing. Maybe because there’s literally just nothing, out there as well as in here, in the plane, where everyone is mostly asleep or silently engrossed in whatever movies or songs they’ve chosen to pass the time.

Maybe it’s because Rin, for once, doesn’t have any other pressing issue that bothers him.

Whatever it is, he thinks of Makoto in the airport, of how Makoto squeezes his hands—almost like he doesn’t want Rin to go, but also like he wants to encourage Rin to run at the same time. Of how Makoto ushers him, how Makoto waits until Rin turns to him, and Rin wonders how long Makoto has been doing that, waiting for Rin to turn around, to notice him not as a friend, but more.

He wonders if he’s doing the right thing, after all. Dating Makoto, that is.

_Maybe I should’ve kissed him,_ he finally finishes the thought, and bothers himself some more because should he? Should he kiss Makoto, when he’s not even sure whether he loves Makoto as much as Makoto does him? Should he, because Makoto is his boyfriend?

He wants to. He knows that much. The problem is whether he wants it simply because he wants to, or if he wants it just because it’s what lovers do, and Rin is a romantic who loves such notions.

But Makoto would be happy, if Rin kisses him. Wouldn’t he? They’d been going out for six months, after all. They should have moved past simple hand-holdings and embraces and cuddles, maybe, except Rin isn’t sure whether doing them with Makoto would be a good idea.

Makoto deserves better, he thinks.

Unsettled, Rin pulls the blankets higher, covers his shoulders and remembers Makoto’s arms around his waist, warm and comfortable, and drifts back into sleep.

** \-----o0o----- **

“Rin-chan, Rin-chan!!” his laptop speaker cries with Nagisa’s voice, so high-pitched that it rings rather unpleasantly in Rin’s ears, thick with excitement. Behind him, Makoto is protesting to no avail, trying to snatch away the pink envelope Nagisa is waving at Rin, but the little blond devil is fast. “Guess what Mako-chan got today! It’s a love letter!”

Rin stares, amused, at the envelope in Nagisa’s hand. Makoto splutters, syllables blurring together as he denies, “it’s not like that!” and “give it back, Nagisa!” mixing in between Nagisa’s laughter. He hums, rests his chin on one hand, and lifts an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you’ve been breaking kindergarteners and elementary school students’ hearts, Makoto.”

Nagisa’s laughter rises into a shriek, and on the screen, Makoto throws Rin a betrayed look. “Rin!”

Rin snickers. “Or is that one from a young mother?”

Makoto gives him a very intense frown. “Rin—“

“It’s from one of the kids’ older sister!” Nagisa pipes in—Rin sees him holding a letter instead of the envelope now, literally sparkling with mischief as his voice goes almost an octave higher. “Dear Coach Tachibana, I might only be a high school students right now but I have always watched you at the pool, and I’m—“

“Nagisa! Give it back!”

“—very happy that you helped me out with my brother—“

“Nagisa, stop it!”

“—I hope this letter won’t bother you. I wish to let you know of this feeling, regardless of how you will answer—“

“Nagisaaa!” and there, Makoto finally manages to snatch the letter away from Nagisa’s hands, face flushing red in embarrassment. Nagisa dances away out of Makoto’s range of swatting, laughter trailing behind him as he leaves the screen, and Makoto turns his pout towards Rin instead. “Rin, stop laughing.”

Rin, who hasn’t stopped snickering since Nagisa began reading the letter, covers his mouth with a hand. “I’m not.”

“Riii-iiinn!” Makoto whines, face scrunching up, and Rin grins. Behind Makoto, Nagisa pops back in, arms winding around Makoto’s shoulders from the back, and chides, “Mako-chan, you shouldn’t cheat at Rin-chan!”

Makoto looks offended. “I would  _never_ .”

“Ah, but,” Nagisa says, ignoring Makoto’s protests completely. “I guess Rin-chan isn’t the jealous type, right? You never get jealous whenever I tell you about some of my co-workers getting too friendly with Mako-chan—“

“They’re just friends,” Makoto sighs. “Rin, don’t listen to him—“

“Yeah,” Rin shrugs. “There isn’t really a point of getting jealous, really. I know Makoto won’t even think to look at someone else that way.”

It’s almost like he’s just dropped a bomb, the way Nagisa and Makoto abruptly stop talking over one another, eyes wide as they look back at Rin through the screen, and for a second Rin blinks, reruns over what he’d just said in his head.

He sees the shade of red darkening Makoto’s neck, climbing up his cheeks to the tips of his ears, the way Makoto ducks away, eyes averting the camera as one hand goes up to cover his lower face. Somehow, the gesture feels private, feels embarrassing, and Rin finds himself looking away from the camera, too, trying to fight against the blush he could feel coming.

Nagisa starts cooing at them both, the bastard.

** \-----o0o----- **

Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “You really don’t get jealous?”

Rin pelts him with a green pea, and Haruka positively glares at him. He answers it wit a roll of his eyes, and a mumble of “Yes Mom, not playing with food,” before kicking Sousuke under the table.

“It’s a legit question,” Sousuke says, than points his fork towards Haruka. “You want to know too, right, Haru?”

Haruka just shrugs, doesn’t even deign Sousuke with a nod, and tucks back into his mackerel. It’s ridiculous how he’d insisted to have mackerel despite Rin’s fully-stocked fridge that Rin had give him full access too, but at least Haruka’s mackerel repertoire has expanded considerably along the years. And at the very least, Rin didn’t have to cook tonight.

“He’s popular with the mothers and the older sisters,” Sousuke says. “Last time I dropped by his swimming club to say hi, there was a college girl hanging off his arm, and he seems rather used to it.”

“That’s his coworker,” Rin tells him. “I know her. Makoto talks about her a lot, he says she’s very helpful.”

Sousuke makes a thoughtful noise at the back of his throat. “You’re okay with how close they are?”

“Makoto isn’t the cheating type,” Rin grumbles, stabbing another innocent green pea on his plate. He might be Makoto’s boyfriend, but it’s really not his right to decide who Makoto can and can’t be friends with. “Why should I be jealous? Your investment in my romantic relationship is questionable, Sousuke.”

“Because you’re friends,” it’s Haruka who responds this time, bland and straight-faced, even as he continues, “and we’re friends, too, so we worry.”

Rin and Sousuke stares at him for a long moment. Haru just blinks at them.

“Sometimes you could say the most embarrassing things with the straightest face,” Sousuke says, and Rin starts laughing. Haruka averts his eyes, like the magnitude of what he’d said earlier just hits him, and mumbles something undecipherable under his breath.  _Cute_ , Rin thinks in amusement, and he elbows Haruka’s side, grinning.

“Thanks, Haru.”

** \-----o0o----- **

Later, days later, when he complains to Rei about the whole thing, Rei tells him that there are two possible ways people could look at someone’s jealousy: a sign of possessiveness, which doesn’t always mean a good thing, or a sign of care.

It makes Rin pause, ponders the whole thing again for a moment, before he tentatively asks, “Which do you think it looks like?”

He could hear the staccato sounds of Rei typing from the other side of the phone—he’s probably working on a research report. Once upon a time, Rin would feel bad for making Rei listen to him when Rei is busy, but he knows better that if Rei were truly busy, he’d politely ask Rin to call him later.

“I think it just shows that Rin-san isn’t the type to get jealous,” Rei says. “Measuring someone’s affection in how much they get jealous is not healthy.”

“I’m bad at this,” Rin gestures helplessly at nothing—not that Rei could see it. “It’s not that I don’t care, I just—know that there’s no way Makoto would look at someone else while he’s going out with me.” There’s an unspoken  _when he loves me so much_ underlining the words, and Rin makes a face at how vain it sounds. “I mean.”

Rei sounds amused at that. “It’s nice to be very secure in your relationship. Makoto-senpai and Rin-san are good for each other.”

The tips of Rin’s fingers run across the jagged surface of his apartment key, and he sighs as he elbows open the door to his room and lobs the key towards his table.

“I wonder.”

** \------o0o------ **

The thing is, being Makoto’s boyfriend is as easy as it was being his friend, and Rin is comfortable with it.

He doesn’t think about it most of the time, doesn’t think much when one of his Australian friends asks if he’d be interested in a blind date and he naturally answers with, “Nah, I already have someone,” like he’s been giving that answer all his life. He doesn’t think much about the swell of pride when Makoto shares stories about the kids he teaches, about how they grow to love swimming and how they win countless swim meets, about how some of them idolizes Rin and Haruka and Sousuke.

“My girlfriend,” one of his fellow athletes complains at one of their drinking sessions one night, “needs to give me a break. She won’t stop texting me, always asking where I am, who am I with—it’s getting suffocating, honestly.”

Rin responds with a light hum and says, “I’m glad my boyfriend isn’t that type of person.”

His friend leans on the counter of the bar, head angling towards Rin in curiosity. “You don’t talk about him much, Matsuoka. The one in Japan, right?”

“What, my boyfriend?” the ice clinks against his glass as Rin swirls his drink around. “Nobody ever asked.”

“Well, I’m asking now, aren’t I?”

Rin flashes his friend a grin. “Clearly I have a better lover than you do.”

He barely has a second to duck his friend’s arm swatting at him, laughter thick in his throat even as he drains his glass. And he doesn’t think about it. Not really.

Until much, much later, when he’s half-asleep in bed reading another one of Makoto’s daily good night text, with the small heart shape at the end, that he thinks about how comfortable it is to refer Makoto simply as  _his_ .

** \-----o0o----- **

He passes the crepe stand on his way to the swimming facility, and thinks Makoto would probably love it if he takes him here.

He watches the city slowly transforms into various shades of reds and pinks on Valentine’s Day, and starts wondering whether he should do something for Makoto, or if he should do it on White Day because Valentine’s Day is supposed to be for girls.

He listens to songs recommended by his friends, head swaying lightly and fingers tapping his knee to the rhythm of the singer crooning in his ear:  _the numbers of nights spread the distance of our beginning_ , and thinks he should call Makoto tonight.

He nearly drops his phone when he stuffs back his things into his bag after practice, catching it on the last second before it hits the ground, and releases a relieved sigh as he stares at it.

Slides his finger across to activate it.

And sends.

_Hey, Makoto, what are you doing?_

** \------o0o------ **

He goes back to Japan for a four days at the demand of his manager for the new sports drink commercial negotiation. It’s two days before his and Makoto’s first anniversary, and Makoto meets him up at the airport, still with the bright smiles that reach his eyes, despite the fact that Rin’s manager will be picking him up and they’d be going straight for work.

“It’s been a while, Rin,” Makoto says when he lets go of their hug, and Rin feels his own grin splitting his face in two. “Welcome home.”

Rin wonders when exactly he’d gotten use to that phrase, when Tokyo isn’t supposed to be home, for him. Iwatobi is—Tokyo is a place to stay a while, but he’d come to think of it as home as well, lately. “I’m home,” he answers, grins when Makoto lightly bumps their forehead together before drawing off. “You know my manager is picking me up today, right?”

“I wanted to see you,” Makoto says, the corners of his mouth curving down playfully. Rin elbows him on the side gently, amused, drawing a laugh from the taller man. “Yes, yes, ever the busy athlete.”

There’s something in Makoto’s tone that brings warmth in Rin—perhaps it’s the unabashed pride clear in his voice, or perhaps it’s simply the feeling of normalcy and comfort that Makoto brings. “I won’t be too busy tomorrow.”

Makoto tilts his head, his smile going soft. “What about the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll take the day off.” The way Makoto’s face positively brightens is blinding, and it reminds him of the day Makoto confessed. But his manager is calling from a few feet away, beckoning him to hurry, and Rin looks up at Makoto apologetically. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“We’ll be having _nabe_ for dinner at Haru’s today,” Makoto tells him. “Come over if you could, okay?”

Rin makes a face, because he knows his schedule would say no to that. “I’ll try,” he says instead, just so Makoto’s smile doesn’t fade. “I’m really not sure, but—“

“If you can’t make it, it’s alright,” Makoto pushes him forward, ushers him to where his manager is waiting impatiently. “Go, go, don’t be late. I’ll see you soon.” A pause, and Rin feels Makoto’s hands on his shoulders tighten.

“Rin? I love you.”

It throws him off. Rin stops, movements hesitant for a second, as he turns around and finds Makoto looking back at him, eyes as soft as his smile and just so  _in love_ , that Rin wants to close his eyes and bask in it.

He fights down the heat climbing his face, and mumbles an embarrassed, “I know.”

Makoto chuckles.

** \------o0o----- **

He doesn’t say it back. Never does.

Not when he’s not sure, yet. Not when he doesn’t understand what love is, still.

He doesn’t want to lie to Makoto.

** \-----o0o----- **

Their first anniversary is spent doing a movie night with literally everyone at Makoto’s apartment.

They’re marathoning Shinkai Makoto’s movies—he’s snug against Makoto’s side on the couch, Makoto’s arm draped around his shoulders and Makoto's cheek resting on the top of his head. Nagisa is reciting every single one of Akari’s letter in frighteningly exact pitch in between stealing Gou and Rei’s popcorn, while Haruka is drifting off on the bean bag right by Makoto’s couch, his feet sprawled across Sousuke’s lap without Sousuke batting an eyelash.

Rin doesn’t mind.

Midnight comes with the end of _Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo_ , and as Gou stretches out and announces that they’re taking a half an hour break before continuing with _Kotonoha no Niwa_ , Makoto shifts against Rin and murmurs in his ear, “Come outside?”

Rin ignores the snickerings coming from both Nagisa and Sousuke. “Yeah, right behind you.”

He stretches, feels the tips of Makoto’s fingers fleetingly runs across his shoulders as they disentangle, the last of Makoto’s body warmth taken away from where it has enveloped him the whole night. Rin drops the half-empty bowl of popcorn on Rei’s lap, half-stumbling in between the many feet sprawled on the floor as he picks his way and follows Makoto towards the balcony.

The early spring breeze still bites, razor sharp against his uncovered nape. Rin takes a deep breath, letting the chill chases away the very last of sleep haze settling in his brain, before joining Makoto to lean on the rails. “Happy anniversary,” he says, when their shoulders brush, and Makoto answers with smile so happy it nearly knocks Rin back.

“Happy anniversary, Rin.” Each syllable puffs out in a white cloud of breath, fogging Makoto’s glasses. There’s a silly urge to reach out and takes away Makoto’s glasses, but Rin doesn’t think about it. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

A year. They’ve made this work for a year, without much of a fuss. Rin thinks he should be amazed, but the realization comes instead with a contented confidence, somehow, a sense of of course they could make it work. He hasn’t felt like this about a lot of things for a long time, aside for his friendship with everyone else. “What, you didn’t trust we could make it so long?”

Makoto’s smile turns shy. “Didn’t think you would put up with me for so long.”

“That should be my line,” Rin says, exasperated. “Really. I don’t know how you put up with me being stubborn and selfish all the time, so—“

“It’s what I love about you, too,” Makoto says, as light as the exhale that escapes his lips, sweet as the smile forever etched on his face, embarrassing like the shade of deep red tinting his cheeks. “It’s also part of you, Rin.”

Rin looks away, and tells himself not to blush. “Why are you so ridiculous.”

The night breeze floats Makoto’s chuckle into the air and carries them away. “It’s true, though.” He gently elbows Rin’s arm, catching Rin’s attention back, and Rin watches curiously as Makoto’s blush deepens. “Um. It’s not much, but—give me your hand?”

Rin watches, curious, as he lets Makoto takes his hand and slips something into it. He turns his palm upwards, opening it to find a small purple charm tied with a thin golden string. The fabric is soft against his palm, a barely there weight that somehow carries more reassurance than it seems to be capable of. Rin inhales softly, overwhelmed with  _feelings_ for a second. “This is—“

Makoto scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I can’t think of what I should get you, so—“ he gestures, at the charm, at Rin, at nothing in particular, and Rin remembers the time Makoto confessed exactly today, last year, all over again. “The shrine I get that from is popular among students who wish for success, for their dreams and plans, and well. I think it’s what I’d like you to have.”

It’s so simple. So very Makoto. Rin closes his palm, trapping the charm inside it very carefully, and looks up at Makoto. “I—didn’t get you anything.”

Makoto smiles. “It’s okay, Rin! This isn’t because of the anniversary—I mean, well, there’s that too, but really, I just wanted you to have it—“

And Rin isn’t sure why he does it, isn’t even sure when he’d moved. It’s almost like letting himself being pulled forward by gravity, like Makoto has turned into the very center of his world for a split-second, enough to draw him up and forward, to reach out and touch the line of Makoto’s jaw and pulls, gently, and finally closes their distance in a soft kiss.

His breath catches the moment their lips meet, and Rin thinks,  _oh_ .

_Oh_ .

Makoto shudders in his hold—there’s no other word for it—he shudders, full-bodied, and then there are hands on Rin’s arms, trembling fingers clutching hesitantly, and Rin’s eyes flutter open, takes in Makoto’s green eyes, wide in disbelief and terrifying hope, takes in the gorgeous spread of red across his cheeks to the tips of his ears, takes in the way he holds his breath, like he’s afraid that everything would break the moment he decides to breathe—

Makoto looks wrecked.

There’s something that rouses in his chest—this is how he affects Makoto, how much changes he could bring with one simple motion—and Rin tells himself to stop thinking, tells himself to stop wondering for once, and leans in once again, pressing their lips together much firmly, and he thinks he hears makoto swallows a sob.

His heart skips a beat, and Rin wants to laugh.

“I love you,” he whispers against Makoto’s lips, welcomes the trembling breath that fans his face, and tilts his head with a quiet laugh. “I love you, Makoto.”

Makoto shakes and shakes, even as he gathers Rin in his arms and presses his lips against Rin’s cheek, Rin’s forehead, Rin’s jaw. He breathes out Rin’s name, almost reverently, and Rin shivers in return, clutches at Makoto’s back like they’re each other life line, and lets the weight of the realization swamps him.

He’s in love. Has been, for a while.

They have been.

** \-----o0o----- **

**OMAKE**

“You look happier,” Haruka notes almost two months later, as they walk the Sydney Harbor Bridge from the North Sydney to head back to the city. The Opera House looms over the water, glittering under Australia’s autumn sun—it’s only a bit past nine, and they’d just missed the peak hour of pedestrian traffic. “Both of you.”

Rin hums, lets his grin split his face in two as he welcomes the breeze messing up his hair. It’s a nice morning, and they have nothing to do until late afternoon. “Yeah, well,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate further, because he learns not to think too much, when it comes to how he feels for Makoto. “I realized things.”

Haruka looks at him closely for a long moment, before turning his attention back to his phone and whoever it is he is texting. “As long as you’re both happy.”

His laughter feels freer, feels lighter. “We are,” Rin says, and it sounds like a promise instead of a reassurance, and the way the corners of Haruka’s mouth twitch upwards rouses another surge of sheer happiness in his chest. Feeling reckless, he takes four wide, quick steps forwards, leaving Haruka behind as he leans onto the high railings, taking in the wide open water, the way the blue of the sky blends almost seamlessly into the darker one of the sea.

He remembers being twelve years old, remembers the giddy feeling he had the first time he set foot here, and the same grin stretches across his lips. Rin inhales deep, and this time, uncaring of whoever is watching him, whoever is passing him on Sydney Harbor Bridge, he lets go.

“I!” He shouts, each syllable enunciated perfectly, “LOVE YOU, MAKOTOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

The breeze picks up, as if trying to carry the words all the way to Japan, and Rin laughs, even as he takes in the not-quite-discreet laughter of everyone around him. One hand comes to rest on his chest, where Makoto’s charm dangles underneath his shirt, and his cheeks hurt with how wide his grin is.

“I can’t believe you,” Haruka’s dry tone comes from behind, and Rin is ready to turn around, to shove Haruka good-naturedly and just laugh everything off, except—

“Rin,” the familiar voice sounds tinny, slightly muffled, with a tinge of statics coming out of the phone speaker, and Rin whirls, eyes wide, finding Haruka holding up his smart phone and Makoto on the screen, face buried in his palms, the lines of his figure pixelated badly, but not enough to hide the shade of red spreading up to the tips of his ears. “That’s—kind of embarrassing.”

Rin splutters, turns his glare to Haruka. “What the fuck, Haru—how the hell did you— _are you a ninja_ ?!”

On the screen, Makoto bursts into laughter, while Haruka levels Rin an unimpressed look. “I was just calling Makoto on Skype when you left me behind.” He shrugs. “You’re the one screaming out your love to the world.”

Rin swears he will get back at him once Haruka and Sousuke hooks up. “Shut up,” he complains, scrubbing his lower face with the back of his hand, and looks back at Haruka’s phone with a scrunched-up face. “Hey, Makoto.”

Makoto, still laughing, still with his face in the cradle of his hands, shakes his head and answers, “Rin, that’s just—unfair.” He pauses, seemingly burying his face deeper into his palms. “That’s so. Unfair.”

Rin flushes. “You’re not even supposed to hear,” he grumbles, throwing an amused Haruka a pointed look. On the screen, Makoto shifts, still not looking up from his palms. “Oi, Makoto, stop being so—“

“I just really want to hold you right now,” Makoto says,  _whines_ , and Rin inwardly swears because he’s sure the top of his head just combusted from the surge of heat on his face.

Haruka starts snickering. Rin tells himself not to throw a shoe at Haruka.

“Yeah, well,” he fights down the blush, schools his expression into a confident one, and reaches into his jeans pocket to fish out his wallet. “You’re in luck then.”

“Huh?” Makoto says, finally lowering his palms and peering up at him from the screen, and Rin grins, fingers snatching the plane ticket to Tokyo that has been nestling in his wallet for the last three days and flashing them at Makoto—the flight dated today, late evening, the same flight as Haruka.

The sound of Makoto’s gasp and the giddy call of his name is the best thing he’s heard today. 

**\-----o0o-----**

**Author's Note:**

> [If you like my works you can check my twitter! :D](http://isumiilde.tumblr.com/post/125334061410/opening-fic-commission)


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